


All At Once

by Cheshyr



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bonding, Bullying, Depression, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, MtF Bucky, Suicidal Thoughts, Team as Family, Trans Character, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 22:28:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3093803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheshyr/pseuds/Cheshyr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Post-CA:WS Avengers chase after a trouble-making Loki, the trickster decides it'd be fun to turn Bucky Barnes into a woman.</p><p>But... she already was one.</p><p>A story exploring Bucky's life (pre and post HYDRA) as a Trans-woman, and process of becoming who you're meant to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All At Once

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT: While this story has a happy ending, it does get rough in places as far a suicidal ideation and seeming hopelessness. Please head the tags and know your limits. Keep yourself safe, friends! <3
> 
> EDIT: I have changed the pronouns to shift earlier than originally written, but please let me know if I missed any! :)

For the longest time, it was something he couldn’t explain. Like an itch under his skin, a soft ache with every masculine pronoun. It was something he couldn’t put his finger on, the way he had so much in common with all the other boys but still didn’t feel like one of them. He eyed his mother’s make-up with envy, and wanted to be just like his father when he grew up. He flipped through magazine and newspaper ads, collecting bits and pieces of a puzzle he did not yet understand. He didn’t want to be a housewife, but he didn’t want to be a husband either. But there was a war coming, and mommy and daddy were fighting. He was a child, and figured he could live with the ache.

And he did. Even when puberty hit and he grew and the pain along with him. Girls started flocking to him and he stared at them, but for different reasons than they thought. He grew a reputation as a heartbreaker, stringing girls along but never following through.

Steve helped. Steve, who seemed too big for his body, his ailments. Who laughed and shook his head every time Bucky showed up with girls on his arms, and blushed whenever he tried to pass them off to the smaller blonde, and who never questioned why Bucky never went all the way with them. They stayed up late and talked about joining the army, and creative ways to brings in some extra cash, and after he learned his middle name, Steve started calling him _Bucky_ which hurt far less that ‘James’ and felt like a balm each time Steve said it. It helped each time his mother tsked about her _odd little boy_ or his father told him to _man the Hell up_. All he needed was Steve’s lips smiling around his name. 

Plus, while he would never tell Steve, it was nice. Having someone to look out for. It made him feel a little less lost.

~

Bucky was beyond happy when he joined the army. Finally, a chance to fight for his county, to protect the people he cared about, or more specifically, the person he cared about. He missed Steve terribly, and worried about him starting fights without Bucky around to bail him out, but he knew it was for the best. He told everyone there to call him Bucky, no one calls him James, nah, just call me Bucky.

His spirits only dampened when his hair was clipped, buzzed short and uniform to match the other soldiers. There was a tightening in his chest, and he had to swallow a few times, but he shook it off, figured he was just being vain. It didn’t matter. He was a soldier, and that’s what was important.

Each day at the crack of dawn he focused on the drills and routines, on the things his body could do, instead of the way it seemed uncomfortable and wrong and it helped, a little. 

The first time he caught himself staring at another man, he considered whether he was gay. He hadn’t really thought of it before, because he spent most of his time with Steve, and he’d never looked at or thought of Steve that way, but still. Maybe that’s what he’d been trying to figure out all those years. But it still didn’t _feel_ right. 

He felt part of the picture shift into place the moment he realized that he felt like he was straight, just not a straight man.

~

Meeting Peggy Carter was life changing. She was tough and commanding, demanding respect from subordinates twice her size and earning it. But she was also beautiful, caring, patient, and wore lipstick like war paint. She wore her uniform on base, and pastel dresses on her time off. There was a clear passion and drive in her when she was running courses or sparring or on the shooting range. She was so many things that Bucky thought couldn’t coexist all at once. 

So many of the other men made crude comments and quips, but Bucky wasn’t attracted to Peggy. He _admired_ her. Bucky could only look on in awe with the discovery of this new type of feminine, something beyond what he had seen on TV or in ads. Something he felt he could identify with. He doesn’t sleep for two nights because he is suddenly struck by the realization that he has _no idea what makes a woman_. 

A few days later, she realizes she doesn’t know what makes a man, either.

~

HYDRA hurts. For the longest time, that is all the name means to her. In her mind, they are not an organization, they are pain. They light her veins on fire, leave her raw and exposed so the very air hurts. They call her ‘the subject’ and she wants to scream because she's still uncertain if she is a man or a woman but she is not a _thing_.

Each time she tries to think of Peggy, of what she would do, she would be strong, she just had to be like Peggy, and she tries to fight, she truly does, but she can feel the strength being bled from her. Everything feels fuzzy, and she is heavy and light at the same time. She thinks she may be close to the edge of somewhere else when familiar blue eyes pull her back. The eyes are what she hones in on, because everything else is strange and foreign. Looking up at her best friend, weakly grasping at hard muscle. 

When they are finally free, the men celebrating all around them, Bucky can’t help but look on in envy. Not for the body itself, but rather the fact that Steve finally managed to become who he was meant to be, and Bucky doesn’t know if that is even a possibility for her.

~

Just when Bucky thought things couldn’t get any worse, she falls in love. It happens slowly, and subtly, and she barely notices. Jim Morita is brave, and intelligent, and snarky as Hell. He makes Bucky smile even when things feel dark. It never ceases to make her laugh each time Jim and Dugan would verbally spar over the fire, or when he would tell stories about growing up in Fresno. Bucky’s heart ached when Morita’s voice would soften as he told of his family, of relocating, of camps, or racism and fear. Bucky realized she wanted to be someone special to Jim. She wanted to reach over and take his hand, or stroke his hair. But she didn’t. 

It ripped her apart, to feel just a little outside the small family they’d formed in Nazi Germany. But no matter how hard she tried, every pat on the back felt like Hydra needles, and every attempt to reach out herself felt like a violation. Her wasted body just wants to sleep but she tries so hard to build herself back up, to be even a fraction of Steve Rogers, because she has to be a soldier, she _has_ to. It’s the only identity she has that doesn’t hurt.

One night, she wakes with a scream on her lips, muffled behind clenched teeth. Nails claw at her arms, search for the needles she can still feel pumping her full of something dark and heavy but there is nothing there. Her ribcage aches from the way her heart is hammering against it and without even thinking she stands and leaves the tent she has been sleeping in. 

The forest is dark and quiet around her as she runs. Tomorrow they would go after Zola, take down a HYDRA train, another notch in their belt. Tonight she ran. Maybe she should have grabbed a jacket. Maybe she should have grabbed shoes, her thick socks not enough to ward off the icy chill of the ground. Still she ran. She ran from HYDRA and their needles and pulses and restraints. She ran from her father backhanding her when she was five and asked for a dress for Christmas. She ran from her mother clutching her jaw and frantically wiping away her carefully applied makeup. She ran from _Stop, stop, you have to stop. My baby boy, lock this away, it’s just a phase. We’ll keep this between us, okay? Our little secret. Good boy, good boy_. She ran from Peggy and how she was everything, _everything_ she wanted to be. She ran from Steve’s voice, begging to know what’s wrong, from Steve’s eyes so sad. She ran from a love that could never be his. She ran from herself.

“BUCKY!”

Jerking to a stop, Bucky realized she had slowed to a staggering walk. Dragging her head up, Buck saw Steve rush towards her. She blinked slowly, becoming suddenly aware of her chattering teeth, her numb fingers and toes. The chilled tear tracks on her face. 

As soon as he was close enough, Steve wrapped Bucky in a warm embrace, the super soldier body engulfing the smaller form, and Bucky let him. Hands ran up and down her back and it didn’t feel like Hydra. She closed his eyes and sank into the hug, Steve holding her tighter to keep her upright. 

“Bucky, oh God, I was so worried, what were you thinking?” 

When Bucky opened her eyes, she found that Steve was dragging her back towards the camp, a glow in the distance suggesting a fire, suggesting warmth. Before she could think about it too much, Bucky raised her hands, clutching at Steve’s uniform as tight as her stiff fingers could manage and cried. Steve paused in his walk.

“Bucky?” 

His friend only cried harder, breath hitching in an obvious attempt to stop, but she was so tired, so hurt, and Steve was _here_ , her best friend, who had never given up on her and who had always been there for Bucky even when he was a 5’4” punk getting into fights in alleyways, he was there offering a comfort Bucky needed but didn’t think she was allowed. Bucky wanted to tell him everything, ask him everything because if anyone had the answers it would be Steve. 

“Bucky? What’s wrong? Please, man, talk to me?”

They were on the ground now, kneeling in the snow, Steve babbling and Bucky hiding in his shoulder when she was gripped by a sudden fear. How could Bucky explain this to _Steve_? Steve who is the perfect man, a gentleman and super soldier and everything a man should want to be. How could Bucky explain when she hardly understood it herself? 

She couldn’t. So she shook her head, wiping her eyes as she stood. Steve rose with her, still keeping an arm around her. Still holding her together. When they finally made it to the fire, Steve stayed by her side. 

“It’s okay, Buck. We’re almost done. Just you wait, we’ll be home before you know it. Alright? We’re almost home.”

~

As she falls from the train, she prays that wherever she goes is better than _home_.

~

There was something calming about being The Winter Soldier. She was never warm, but she was finally allowed to sleep, and when she awoke she knew exactly what her purpose was. No subtext or subtly. Just the mission and the cryo chamber. Sometimes she felt confused, and would look around and not recall how she got there. Sometimes she felt like there was a voice in the back of her head telling her _wait, this isn’t right, I don’t belong here, what happened?_

_Who the Hell is Bucky?_

But then a swift backhand and a bolt of electricity would silence the voice once more.

Until the man from the bridge shattered her.

_…I knew him…_

She didn’t understand it, how someone could hurt her so bad just by speaking but it hurt, oh God, why was he hurting her? 

_James Buchannan Barnes_

Why did that name hurt so much? 

Why did that hurt, when ‘Bucky’ made her remember what warmth was? 

What is a friend? 

What is her mission? 

Where does the line end?

When the other man falls, she has no idea why she follows. Dragging the soldier onto the shore though, she’s glad she did. Everything hurts, same as it has for a long while. But looking down at the unconscious figure in the sand, for the first time she feels like maybe she will heal.

~

Deprogramming kind of sucks. For the first time, every life she has taken over the last fifty years has a name, is a person, and has weight and guilt. For the first time, she remembers that this pain did not begin in HYDRA. She goes to the Captain America exhibit, staring at pictures of herself and they don’t look like her. She walks away, because Sargent James Barnes isn’t even who she _was_ so how can he help figure out who she _is_ , now, after being torn apart so many times?

As always, Steve helps. She looks at the footage of Captain America, the pictures, the articles, and that’s when it starts coming back. Steve in an alleyway fighting a losing battle, coming over for dinner, saving Bucky in so many ways. The photos of Peggy and faded and colorless, except for the more recent ones which show her as an old woman, surrounded by children and grandchildren. She doesn’t understand it yet, but she has an instinctual admiration, like a child to a parent. A desire to be just like her.

She only lingers by Jim Morita’s photo for a moment, long enough to look and see that he lived a long life with a happy family. She’s glad. Bucky is glad. She knows The Winter Soldier couldn’t feel compassion like this. 

The heartbreak she could do without.

~

One thing she regained in the deprogramming was her tendency to be a bit of an asshole. Point in case, Steve and Sam search for Bucky all along the east coast, even spending some time in Europe, sighing about how The Winter Soldier always seemed to be two steps ahead of them, without ever realizing that she was actually a step behind. She tailed them for about a month. It gave her time to poke around her own head, figure out if she might be dangerous, decide who exactly she is at the moment (because she’s not Winter Soldier anymore, but she hasn’t made it all the way back to Bucky either). 

She has most of his memories back, but she still feels like a stranger. So she goes to the public library and googles “gifts for new friends” and that’s how she ended up knocking on Steve’s door with a bag of oranges.

When Steve finally opens the door, he freezes on the spot. Bucky is suddenly struck by how different they seem. Steve with his golden hair combed back and a tight beige shirt clinging to his chest, while Bucky lets her long dark hair hide her face, and over-sized black hoodie conceal her body and metal arm. 

Keeping her eyes on the floor, nervous that maybe she shouldn’t have come, maybe Steve didn’t want her anymore, she timidly held out the bag of fruit.

“I’m sorry I tried to kill you.”

The soft rasp seemed to break Steve from his stupor as he looked down at the offering. Whatever Bucky was expecting, it was not for Steve to break into a wide and radiant smile, blue eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Would you like to come in?”

She does. Sam has a good fright when he gets out of the shower and finds Barnes sitting in the armchair across from where Steve is sitting on the couch in their living room. After a moment to take in the sight, but before Steve can say anything, Sam merely tightens the towel around his waist and walks back into his room.

“Man, couldn’t give me a heads up or somethin’?”

Once he is dressed, they all sit around the living room, peeling oranges and talking. Steve explains how he made it to the future, Bucky explains her progress in rewiring her head, and Sam reiterates that he is human, dammit, and starting to get some sorta complex.

Bucky smiles, and Steve laughs, and she thinks that things might actually be okay.

~

The Avengers are a far greater comfort than Bucky could have anticipated. On the day Stark called Steve, announcing that the tower was finished and to get his ass down there because family dinner was at 6, Steve barely started stuttering and babbling about ‘this one friend’ before Stark cut him off.

“I am insulted that you think I don’t already know about Barnes AND Wilson. The three of you are sharing a floor to make slumber parties easier. Also sorry about the whole ‘HYDRA infiltrating SHIELD thing’. I totally dropped the ball on that one. It’s a long story. Be here by 6!” –click-

And that was how Steve, Sam, and Bucky moved into Avengers Tower. It was spacious, and designed specifically for them. More than that, the team was so… warm and welcoming. Bucky couldn’t understand it, until one day during a video game tournament, Hawkeye snorted and shouted “raise your hand if you’ve been responsible for the deaths of innocents!” and every hand shot up. Natasha smiled and ruffled her hair.

“We’ve all got a past. But we’ve also got a future.”

It was so simple, and so soothing, Bucky actually thought she could accept it.

~

For a long time, Bucky has to consciously work to think of herself as a person, as opposed to a thing or a weapon or a toy. Sam advised Bucky to take small steps, just one thing at a time, so that’s what she did. When she caught herself panicking when someone asked her a question, when she felt lost, when she wanted to treat a suggestion like an order, she took a deep breath and reminded herself _I’m a person, I’m a person, I’m a person_. 

One night, while brushing her teeth, Bucky suddenly realized that she hadn’t needed to repeat her mantra once all day, and she grinned with pride. 

That night, with another corner of her identity reclaimed, the absence of pain and hunger and orders and guilt and uncertainty, allowed a small, long forgotten ache to once more make itself known. 

~

“Hey Barnes, you ever gonna cut your hair?”

It is Clint that asks the question out of the blue one morning over breakfast. Tony is half asleep at the table, coffee cooling in front of him while Bruce flips through the paper next to him. Across the table, Natasha, Thor, and Steve are discussing what they should plant on the rooftop terrace for the summer, While Clint and Bucky sit on the counter and munch on cereal.

Before Bucky can think of a response to the question, Steve speaks up. “I was actually wondering that too, Buck. It’s getting pretty long.” 

Frowning, Bucky ducks her head, and tugs on a strand of dark hair by her face. Even in the high ponytail she has taken to wearing, the tips of her hair still fall just short of her shoulders. At night in her room, she liked to let it down so she could run her hands through it. She practiced French braiding, which would keep her hair more out of the way during large battles. Sometimes she carded a ribbon through it. She remembers the army, the loud buzz in her ear and watching the already short locks fall to the floor around her. Her fingers tightened protective around her hair.

“I don’t want to cut it.” It comes out soft, not as strong as she would have liked. 

But it is no matter. Clint merely snorts. “Whatever, you and Thor can start a club or something.”

They all laugh, and Bucky tries, but it doesn’t come out quite the same.

~

Loki was pretty much a wildcard as far as villainy. It was unanimously agreed among the Avengers, including Thor, albeit reluctantly, that the Asgardian was bat shit crazy. As a result, sometimes Loki ran around pulling large-scale, magic induced pranks, and sometimes he went on a bloodthirsty rampage. 

Today was an easy day, with the god brushing up on his mischief. 

“Hawkeye! Stop eating civilian cars!”

“But each one is a different flavor!”

Currently, roughly three square city blocks had been turned into candy and other desserts. Everything from the buildings to the trees. Dogs and birds were going nuts, not to mention kids and Hawkeye. Even Bucky and Tony were pocketing some miscellaneous goodies. 

Meanwhile, Steve and Thor were focused wholeheartedly on chasing down the giggling trickster. Eventually the other Avengers joined more sincerely. On days like this, the basic routine was to go through a bit of keep-away until Loki got bored, turned things back to normal, and vanished, leaving the Avengers exhausted but free to go about the rest of their day. 

No one was sure what was different this time. Bucky considered that maybe she was projecting particularly loudly that day, although she wasn’t exactly certain that Loki could read minds at all. Maybe the god sensed something, maybe he had heard something, Hell, maybe it was all some ridiculous coincidence. What ever it was, in the middle of their chase, after Bucky unsuccessfully launched a large peppermint like a Frisbee at Loki’s head, the Asgardian turned and looked straight into her eyes. For a moment things seemed to pause, before the god cocked his head, smiled, and fired a bolt of magic at the Winter Soldier.

The light hit Bucky in the dead center of her chest, throwing her onto her back and knocking the wind out of her. From her body the light burst, and when the Avengers could see again the city was back to normal and Loki was gone.

And Bucky had changed.

Silence stretched as Bucky slowly rose and they all took in the sight before them. Bucky’s hair was the same length, falling a few inches below her shoulders. Her uniform had not changed to fit her new shape, so it sagged and bunched around her instead of hugging her body like before. Luckily her metal arm had adjusted, although the change was not drastic, simply a minor decrease in length and bulk. Looking up, her face also seemed mostly unchanged, just free of any facial hair and a slightly more angled jaw. Overall, despite the changes seeming minute, the effect was obvious.

Bucky’s body was female. 

That was when Tony and Clint burst out laughing. Steve, Natasha, and Bruce were each obviously trying to conceal their smiles and failing miserably, while Thor rubbed the back of his head, smiling sheepishly.

“My deepest apologies, Barnes,” his voice boomed as Bucky stared down at herself, wide eyed in shock, “it appears my brother was in a particularly mischievous mood this day. But worry not!” His hand clapped down on Bucky’s metal shoulder good naturedly, “I have fallen victim to such spells before. It shall wear off in a week or so.”

In hindsight, Bucky figured she was lucky her brain didn’t have time to process enough to get excited. Otherwise the others may have seen her face fall.

~

The ride home was full of joking that Bucky knew was meant to be friendly but cut deeply all the same. When they finally arrived at the tower, she practically bolted, shrugging off Steve’s concern with a simple “I’m tired, I’ll see you in the morning”.

Reaching her room, she quickly closed the door and locked it behind her, before alerting JARVIS that she wanted no visitors barring her imminent death. With that, she entered her bathroom suite, closing and locking that door behind her as well for good measure.

Finally feeling secure in her privacy, Bucky removed her baggy uniform, letting the fabric fall around her feet and leaving herself bare before the full-length mirror against the wall. 

Much was basically the same. Her eyes, eyebrows, skin tone, hair color. Muscle still bulged beneath her skin, her arms and shoulders solid and dangerous, although the muscles around her stomach were not as visible due to the change in her body fat. Her chest was small and narrow, emphasized by the way her hips flared out. The pear shape of her body was clear, though slightly masked by her broad shoulder muscles. There was a lightness between her legs that made her breath hitch, and placed a hand on her stomach, feeling a six pack hidden under a layer of flesh and traced the way her belly curved ever so slightly around an entirely new organ. She ran her fingers, narrower that she was used to, along the curve of her jaw, less boxy than it had been just this morning, trailing down to her throat, smooth and thin. 

“My name is James Buchanan Barnes.” The mantra that had followed her during her first weeks of deprogramming left her lips in a voice that was not quite so deep. Licking her lips, she tried again, “My name is… Bucky. My name is Bucky. I am the Winter Soldier, and an Avenger. I am…” she couldn’t stop the way the corners of her lips twitched towards a smile, “…a girl.”

It still didn’t quite make sense to her, but at the same time it _did_. It made more sense than anything else. This was what she’d been looking for, this was the answer.

Her hands drifted to her thighs, unwilling, or perhaps unable, to explore the area changed most, instead feeling the thick, solid legs, the roundness and curves. Her legs and armpits were still covered in course, dark hair, and she wondered about shaving, whether she could do that now without judgment, whether she wanted to. She thought about blush, mascara, dresses, perfume. She thought of blood red lipstick and the fact that this was all temporary and she put her fist through the mirror. 

HYDRA echoed in her ears that _your body is not your own_ and she cried.

~

Next morning she composed herself as best she could. None of her clothes fit her quite right any more, so she stuck to sweats, pulling the drawstrings tight. Bucky made sure to walk into the kitchen with her standard swagger, but as usual Steve was the only other one awake.

Immediately Steve leapt to his feet, cereal forgotten on the table as he rushed to his friend’s side. Bucky had only lost about an inch of height and none of her strength. If Steve expected to tower over her he would be sorely disappointed.

But his face showed only concern. “You took off pretty quick last night, Buck. I know we were giving you a hard time, but…” His hands hovered over her shoulders, hesitant and unsure. “You should let Bruce look you over, make sure everything’s okay. Are you okay? I mean, like, in your head, are you…?”

Bucky wanted to punch him, if only to prove that she was the same as yesterday, like clay remolded, the same but different. She didn’t, though. Instead, she raised an eyebrow, as she always had when Steve was straddling the line between amusing and infuriating, and sat in his spot, shameless digging into the super soldier’s abandoned corn flakes.

Blinking, Steve stared after her for a moment before barking out a laugh, shaking his head. “Punk,” he mumbled as he went to the cabinet to grab another bowl. Sitting across from each other, the two soldiers ate in peace, the silence comfortable, as it usually was between them. Bucky felt her heart stutter in her chest. This was the same. The same. She was a girl, and Bucky, and Steve’s friend, and a soldier, and an Avenger, all at once. 

Eventually the peace had to be broken. Thor was the next to wander into the kitchen, breaking into a large grin upon seeing Bucky. 

“Friend! It is good to see you are well! I was greatly concerned yesterday when you left us.”

Shrugging, Bucky slurped up the last bit of milk from her bowl before answering, “Nah, I’m fine. Really. It’s not a big deal.” It was a huge deal. Just not the way they thought.

“Indeed. As I said, the effects should wear off before long.” Thor gave her a firm slap on the back, which Bucky was thankful for as it gave her an excuse to duck her head. Moments later, the rest of the team arrived. 

Bucky wished she had stayed in her room.

“Lady Barnes! Good to see you again!”

“We were worried when you ran off.”

“Did Loki transform you during your ‘time of the month’? He’s just enough of a bastard to do it.”

“Maybe we could get some blood samples later? I wonder how much of your genetic code was changed.”

“I think this is the first time I’ve ever been _glad_ someone doesn’t have a sister. You make a better dude, Barnes.”

“Loki couldn’t give you more of a chest? I mean damn, I think you were bustier as a man!”

“I don’t know guys, everyone knows superhero teams can only have one girl. If this sticks I’m calling seniority!” 

“Oh please, it’s not gonna be permanent. He’ll be back to normal before you know it.”

“It was probably his hair. Loki just got confused.”

“By the way, stay away from my makeup, that shit’s expensive.”

“Come on, Tasha, I’m pretty sure he needs it more than you.”

“Yeah, maybe he can play dress up, too. I’ve seen your closet.”

“I’m sure with our combined efforts, Barnes might actually be able to pas-“

_CRASH_

There was a serious of yelps and curses as the team ducked to avoid the shards of the orange juice pitcher Bucky had hurled against the wall. Glancing up, they saw her standing, still and silence, in front of them. Her fists shook, and her eyes radiated rage and pain.

She wanted to say _stop_. She wanted to say _fuck you_ , and _let me be_ and _why is everything conditional?_.

Instead, she turned and walked away, not turning back even when Steve called her name.

~

A week came and went, and each day Bucky left her room less and less. She couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t face her team. Locking the doors and ordering JARVIS to keep everyone out, she spent most of her day in bed, curled weakly on top of the covers. Bucky recognize the painful clench in her gut as the pain, the fear, the dread, the sorrow, that came with being tossed back in cryo just when she was finally starting to feel warm again. She kept the room cold, cold enough to make her shiver and it helps, a little. Not enough, but a little.

Steve knocked on her door three times a day like clockwork.

Morning: “Buck! Buck, has anything changed?”  
Noon: “You need to eat, Bucky. Please come out? We wont make fun of you anymore, I promise.”  
Night: “Sleep well, Bucky. Don’t worry, you’ll be back to your old self soon, I just know it.”

And Bucky would fall asleep with those words in her ear, wondering if anyone would ever just ask her what she wanted.

~

It has been a week and a half when there is another knock at the door. Bucky knows it is different because it lacks the heavy pound of super-soldier muscle and mother hen concern. Instead there is a soft, gentle rap against the wood that makes Bucky close her eyes for a moment. There is something soothing about how undemanding the sound is. She waits for a moment, hoping the person will knock again. Surprisingly, she finds the absence of a second knock as soothing as the gentleness of the first. It is this more than anything that compels her to uncurl and go to the door, opening it slowly.

Bucky had always been taller than Natasha, looking down at the assassin’s petite form. The redhead smiles apologetically and holds out a tall glass.

“Chocolate peanut butter protein smoothie. Can’t have you wasting away just because your teammates are assholes.”

Ducking her head, Bucky accepts the peace offering and moves to allow the Russian to enter. “It’s alright. You’re my friends. I know you didn’t mean it.”

Looking back, Natasha raised an eyebrow. “Just because we didn’t intend to hurt you, doesn’t mean we didn’t. And just because we’re friends, doesn’t mean we’re allowed to.”

Blinking, Bucky tries to think of an intelligent response, but all that comes out is, “Oh.” Sipping on the smoothie, she leans awkwardly against the door. Natasha chuckled quietly.

“Look, you wanna spar with me? Get some of those pent up feelings out?”

She hadn’t thought of it before, but that… actually sounded nice. Ever since the incident Bucky had been drawing into herself, trying to keep still as if to keep from shattering the illusion. She was sore, and stiff. 

“Yeah.” She nodded, giving Natasha a small smile, “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Alright!” The Black Widow strode forward, plucking the smoothie from Bucky’s hand, “I’ll put this in the fridge. You can have it after I kick your butt.” She winked.

Laughing, Bucky quickly changed. Her work out clothes normally consisted of just sweats and a tank top, so as long as she tightened the drawstrings it still worked. She knew that normally she would want a sports bra, but figured she wasn’t well endowed enough for it to be imperative. After a moments hesitation, she swiftly pulled her hair back into a neat French braid.

Arriving at the large gym, she saw that Natasha was already there, and quickly joined her in warming up and stretching. Finally, they moved to the center of the large blue mat in the middle of the room. They did not need any pretense, just a quick nod and they were off. Natasha’s style, once a confrontation had begun, was to go immediately for the offense. Bucky ducked and dodged, occasionally jabbing with her elbow to push Natasha back. They kept their attacks light an easy, loosening up rather than hard training. Both assassins were evenly matched when Natasha suddenly twisted, spinning to wrap herself around Bucky’s shoulders. It was a move she had done during spars countless times, and normally Bucky could maneuver herself away. But this time, as soon as Black Widow’s weight settles along her upper back, Bucky felt herself toppling forward, unable to right herself as momentum pulled them both into a heap on the ground.

“Ack!”

“Oof!” 

They landed on top of each other, limbs tangled, and Bucky stood quickly, concerned about crushing the smaller woman. Rubbing the back of her head, she held out a hand and helped Natasha to her feet. 

The redhead chuckled. “Oh man, I’m so sorry. I should have warned you before I did that move.”

Bucky frowned. “Warned me? We were sparring, you’re not supposed to warn your opponent about anything.”

“No, no,” Natasha quickly explained, “What I mean is, I forgot that you’re not used to fighting with a lower center of gravity, so you don’t know how to compensate for it.” 

Seeing Bucky’s look of confusion, she continued, “Center of gravity is different for everyone. However, in general men’s center of gravity is around their sternum. For women, it’s usually more around here,” she pointed a few inches above her own bellybutton. “You’ve got larger hips than I do, so I’d actually guess that your center of gravity is a bit lower than it is for me. Normal when I jump on your back, you’re able to keep your balance because that’s where your center of mass is. When I did it this time, you reacted as you normally would, without compensating for a lower mass.”

Without even meaning to, Bucky’s lips twitched up into a smile. This was what she wanted. She could still fight, still be a hero, still be _herself_ , she just needed some practice, learn some new things, but it was so exciting, to learn all these things. 

Smiling encouragingly, Natasha started to move towards the center of the mat again. “Here, I’ll show you-“

“Bucky!”

At that moment, Steve and Thor walked in, Steve rushing forward at the sight of his best friend who he hadn’t seen in over a week. 

“Bucky, are you alright? Like, are you _alright_?” 

Rolling her eyes, Bucky sighed, “Yes, Steve, I’m fine.”

Thor stepped forward, “This spell does seem to be lasting longer than I am accustomed to.”

“Yeah, I uh… noticed.” 

“But fear not!” Thor smiled widely, “Friends Stark and Banner are working on a way to reverse the spell themselves. I am helping them as well. Between the three of us, all will be well before you know it!”

Swallowing thickly, Bucky tried to smile. Natasha tilted her head and gave her an odd look.

“What are you doing here anyway, Buck?” Steve asked, “You’ve, uh, been spending most of your time in your room.”

Shuffling, Bucky’s answered timidly, “Nat and I were just sparring a bit.”

“Sparring?” Steve frowned, “Is that a good idea?”

“He’s not hurt, Rogers, just shape-shifted.” Natasha pointed out, “I’m just showing him some tips and tricks.”

“Well,” He looked between the two assassins, “just be careful not to make it too much of a habit. Otherwise your form will be wrong once you’re back to normal.” 

Bucky felt her breath hitch.

“Hm, that’s actually a pretty good point…” Natasha trailed off, turning to take in Bucky’s forced stoicism, clenched fists, and averted eyes. Before she could question her, Bucky pivoted and stalked out of the room.

“Never mind. Just forget it.” 

“Buck, wait-!” 

Black Widow reached out, gently but firmly grasping the Captain’s wrist, preventing him from following his friend.

Meanwhile Bucky practically ran back to her room, throwing the door closed and locking it firmly. She was breathing heavily, a few tears escaping. Frantically, her eyes scanned the room before finally settling on the bedside lamp. It took mere seconds for her to grab it and hurl it against the wall. The dam broke. She grabbed everything she could, and shattered it. She put her first through the TV screen, reveling in the short, sharp jolts that fired up her metal arm. Scooping up a handful of broken glass with her flesh hand, she clenched her first, allowing blood to well in her palm, and when she threw the shards the blood trailed behind like a shooting star. Distantly, she thought she heard the voice of JARVIS trying to reach her, but she was gone. Long gone. Had she ever been there at all?

Pausing in her destruction, Bucky brought her bloodstained hands to her hair. Feeling it still tied back in a braid, she ruthlessly ripped the band out, tearing her fingers through the locks until her hair was free and wild around her face. The wound on her hand, still bleeding, left a smear across her cheek and she thought of Peggy and her lipstick but this was not the same. 

Without thinking, her mechanical arm reached out, tearing the bathroom door off its hinges and tossing it across the room. She ripped open every drawer, emptying their contents on the floor and the counter. Finally, she found what she was looking for. A plain pare of silver scissors. 

Looking up, she caught her reflection in the mirror. She looked haggard, bags under her eyes, blood running down her face and arms, hair wild, body shaking, crying and unable to stop. 

It didn’t matter who she was, or who she wanted to be. Her body was not her own. It was everyone else’s, and everyone else wanted a boy.

Grabbing a fistful of hair, she pulled it away from her scalp, and raised the scissors.

There was a crashing sound. Suddenly there were many voices coming from Bucky’s bedroom, but one overpowered them all.

“Stop! STOP! Everyone out! Yes, you too, Rogers. Out. Out! I SAID GET OUT!”

Natasha left no room for argument, and Bucky heard the door shut with a resounding ‘click’, and for a moment there was silence. It took the other woman a moment to get to the bathroom, carefully maneuvering through the chaos. Eventually, she was face to face with Bucky, frozen with her hair in one hand and scissors in the other, blades open and waiting next to her head.

“Bucky…” Natasha said her name on an exhale, hand rising slowly in a peacemaking gesture. 

“I just…” Bucky couldn’t understand the sudden overwhelming need to explain herself, but as it was the words came out, “I’m trying. I’m trying so hard, you have to believe me. I know you all want a boy, I know but I just… I just…” A few more tears escaped, and her hands began to shake precariously. 

Nodding slowly, the Russian lowered her hands. “Do you want to cut your hair?”

“What?” Bucky blinked, surprised by the simple question. “Everyone else-“

“I don’t care about everyone else.” Her voice was firm and gentle. “I care about _you_.” 

In hindsight, it shouldn’t have been so surprising, but Bucky still found herself speechless.

Natasha’s eyes were filled with sorrow. “I know what it’s like, having to work so hard to realize you’re a person. But even more importantly is realizing you are your _own_ person. You do not belong to anyone, Bucky. You don’t owe anyone anything. No one has any say in who you are except _you_.”

Stepping forward, she looked Bucky straight in the eye, “Remember that, and tell me. Do _you_ want to cut your hair?”

They never broke eye contact, even as the silence grew and Bucky’s whole body began to shake. Finally, still speechless, still trying so hard to swallow back tears, Bucky slowly shook her head. _No_.

Reaching up, Natasha gently pulled the scissors away from Bucky’s hair, dropping them onto the floor to disappear amongst the wreckage. And before she could rethink it, or talk herself out of it, Black Widow stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around Bucky. She held her, stroking her hair and back, staying silent, even when she felt her shoulder become damp.

~

Natasha stayed that night. 

She sat Bucky down on the edge of the bed and kneeled in front of her, cleaning her hand and wrapping a bandage around it, before taking a wet washcloth to gently clean the dried blood from her arms and face.

When Bucky felt steady enough to stand, the two women began cleaning up all the broken glass, before moving the furniture that wasn’t broken back to it’s original place and making a list with JARVIS of what needed to be replaced. By the time hey were finished, the sun was just setting below the city skyline. 

“Stay put, alright? I’ll be right back.” 

Bucky nodded, but Natasha was already gone. True to her word though, it was less than five minutes before she returned, her arms full of pillows, a DVD, a paper grocery bag, and a small, black wood box with a golden latch. Unceremoniously, she dropped them all on the bed in front of Bucky.

“What’s all this?” 

Natasha gave a small, almost shy smile. “I call them recovery nights. After joining SHIELD…sometimes… after a bad day, I just needed to take care of myself. Just do things for no other reason than that they feel good, you know?” 

“Hm.” In reality, Bucky hadn’t really thought of it before. She was usually too busy beating herself up for not recovering faster. “So, what did you bring?”

“Well, the pillows are self-explanatory,” she began pulling items out of the paper bag, “I brought some hot chocolate and popcorn... your microwave still works, right?” Bucky nodded, “Good. I also grabbed some grapes and mixed nuts. Variety, you know? And you still haven’t seen ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’, right? You’re gonna love it.”

They took a moment to situate themselves, Bucky making the popcorn and drinks while Natasha set up the movie. The black box sat innocently on the edge of the bed. It was roughly the size of a shoebox, the wood smooth and polished. Bucky wanted to ask about it, but then the movie was playing and they were making themselves comfortable and she tried to ignore it.

Ferris and his friends were goofing off in an art museum when Bucky’s curiosity finally got the best of her.

“Hey Natasha… what’s with the box?”

The Russian smiled, looking like she had just been waiting for that question. She pulled the box between them and gestured for Bucky to open it. She did.

The box had several compartments, some of the deeper ones holding different colors of nail polish, the shallower ones containing pallets of eye shadow. There were tubes of lipstick and foundation and blush. 

Looking up, Bucky spoke quietly. “But… you told me not to use your makeup.” 

Natasha smiled with a look of sadness and regret. “That’s because I was an asshole. And I’m sorry.” Reaching over, she grabbed some powder and a brush. “May I?”

Was this allowed? Was Bucky being made fun off? No, that’s not right, not even Black Widow could fake that level of sincerity. Is this what girls do? Is this what she’s supposed to do? Boys don’t wear makeup. Boys have makeup washed off with their first layer of skin Boys don’t boys don’t-

_What do you want?_

She nodded.

“Yes please.”

Across from her, Natasha is gentle and careful. She applies a thin layer of foundation, evening out the splotches on her skin. A quick sweep of blush across her cheeks, soft gold and bronze over her eyelids, emphasized by a touch of mascara. Natasha leans back, and Bucky glances back down into the box. Reaching hesitantly, she pulls out a small tube of lipstick.

“Would you…please?” 

The smaller woman keeps her hand steady and she drags the red, red lipstick across Bucky’s lips. After, Natasha practically begs Bucky to braid her hair (“No matter how hard I try, it just never comes out right!”), so they trade places, half watching the movie as Bucky skillfully weaves Black Widow’s hair into an elegant French Braid.

When she is done, Natasha pulls Bucky to her feet and into the bathroom so they can see what they look like. Looking into the mirror, Bucky sees a beautiful woman. Other than her lips, the makeup is subtle. She likes it. Likes the way she looks, the way she feels. Her eyes travel down her body, still clad in her workout clothes from earlier, metal arm gleaming in the florescent light. She looks back at her lips.

Bucky wonders if Peggy would be proud of her.

~

It is a week later that the knock comes. Bucky had taken to once again secluding herself, only allowing Natasha to enter, although even then she was only partially successful in getting the Winter Soldier out of her slump.

This time, the knock is loud, and frantic. “Bucky! Bucky, open up! Great news!”

When she finally opens the door, Steve is grinning ear to ear, practically bouncing on his feet. “They figured it out!”

“Wha-“ She was cut off as Steve grasped her wrist and pulled her forward. Bucky had to take a few steadying breaths, center herself in the here and now, reassuring herself that the hand touching her meant no harm, before finally focusing in on the stream of words spilling from Steve’s mouth.

“They did it! Tony and Bruce and Thor! Tony and Bruce found some chemical that can mutate DNA and Thor found a way to direct and harness it so we can turn you back!”

Suddenly they are in the elevator. “Wait, back? W-what do you mean?”

“I mean you’ll be back to normal! I know you’ve probably been stressing about this. I mean, Thor said the spell would wear off on its own in about a week and it’s been almost three now. But we’ve been putting our heads together, and it paid off! See? You had nothing to worry about. The Avengers always find a way.”

And just like that they were in the lab, the one place Bucky had always avoided for dear life because heavy machinery (and sterile needles and anesthetic and restraints) tended to put her in a not great state of mind. Yet here she was, in a lab with two scientists looking far too happy and Thor fucking _beaming_ all because they get to fuck with Bucky’s body like everyone else. 

“Alright, Barnes,” Tony spoke first, “I’m gonna keep this simple since we’ve already had our genius geek fest. We’ll give you a quick injection, and then Thor is gonna use some weird Asgardian thunder magic to enhance the formula and make sure it affect the right parts of your DNA. And before you ask, we have tested this several times and they were all a success. You’re welcome.” Stark crossed his arms smugly.

Bruce chuckled. “It really is safe. And quick too. Sorry it took us so long to figure out, I know this has been tough for you.”

“Aye, it will be nice to have our brother in arms among us once more.”

“I’ll be right here, Buck. Just sit down over-“ Just as Steve put his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, she reached up, grabbing his wrist and elbow firmly, bent her knees, and threw him over her shoulder.

Steve landed on his back, the wind knocked from his lungs. His fall had knocked down a few stools, but otherwise the lab was fine. Tony, Bruce, and Thor all leapt to their feet, crowding to assist the fallen captain. Steve waved them off, knowing he wasn’t really hurt.

By the time any of them looked over at the door, Bucky was long gone.

~

Locking the door wasn’t enough anymore. Bucky grasped the edge of her bed with her mechanical arm and hauled it in front of the door, barricading herself in. She felt like she couldn’t breath, her chest constricting with panic because _they were coming for her, HYDRA, coming to take her apart again, no, wait, not HYDRA. Her, her friends? Why were her friends hurting her?_

_Why didn’t anyone ever ask what she wants?_

A loud knock startles her from her, drawing her attention back to the door.

“Bucky? Bucky it’s me, it’s Steve. I’m sorry, we shouldn’t have sprung that on you so quickly.”

She took a deep and steadying breath. “It’s… it’s okay. That’s not… what this is about.”

Behind the door Bucky swore she could hear Steve frown. “Well, come out then? Please? We’ll go slower this time I promise.”

Tears welled behind Bucky’s eyes, her voice hitching. She knew what that meant, leaving the room. 

“Bucky?” Steve leaned against the door, but was met with resistance and silence. Sighing, he turned and slid down the wall, sitting patiently.

“Bucky, please, please come out.”

“I can’t. I _can’t_.” 

Sighing, Steve leaned his head against his knees. “Then… Then _talk_ to me, Buck. Please. You’ve been avoiding me, and everyone else ever since this started. I miss you, I just want my best friend back.” Even through the wood Steve could hear the way his best friend’s breath hitched and shuddered. When the silence dragged on, Steve tried to encourage her, “Look, I know we’ve been tough on you and giving you a hard time, but that’s only because we knew we could fix this. And now we can, you can go back-“

“But I don’t _want_ to go back!”

Steve expected silence, but was instead met with choked sobs, and the sound of furniture being dragged away. The Captain scrambled to his feet just as the door was flung open. Bucky stood before him, tears streaming down her face, eyes wide with something between despair and rage.

“ _I’m not a boy_. Do you understand? My whole life, long before Hydra got their hands on me, I have felt so… so out of place. Ever since I was a child I didn’t fit like I should and nothing changed that. I was just stuck being a, a fucking round peg in a square hole. It only got worse and worse and then Hydra tore me apart and…and…” She paused, taking a few deep breaths as Steve gaped, frozen before her. After a moment, Bucky continued, “This,” She gestured down at herself, “is the most comfortable I’ve felt in my entire life. I feel like I can _breath_ , Steve.” Her voice was pleading, begging the one person who meant the most to her to understand. “I gave up, a long time ago, thinking that I could ever truly be at peace with myself. But now that I have it…” Her voice cracked. Her fingers shook. “Steve I think turning back will kill me.”

But it was more than that, she realized. 

Having this body given to her and then taken away, that would crush her. 

Looking into the eyes of her best friend as she spills her soul and having him turn her away… _that_ would kill her.

And so she waited, head bowed hair like a shield in front of her face. 

Steve had been making good progress as far as catching up on this century, but that didn’t mean he was fully prepared to be presented with it right in front of him. Pepper had made sure he knew all about the LGBTQIA+ community before he was allowed to speak to any news outlets, specifically so that they wouldn’t be able to catch him off guard. But it was different, being told about a group of people in theory and being faced with your best friend.

Then again, that sort of summed it up.

“Bucky…” Steve moved slowly, incredibly slowly, giving Bucky plenty of time to pull away as she was pulled into a gentle embrace. “You are my _best friend_. More than anything else. And you can be whoever you want, man or woman or anything in between, and it will never change how much I love you.” He tightened his grip, “Okay?”

She wanted to respond. She really did. But she couldn’t stop laughing from sheer relief.

~

It wasn’t all easy. Thor took it pretty well, and told quite a few tales of gods, including Loki, who would often change gender to suite their identity. It certainly took them all aback, but none of the other avengers had a problem, per say, though Clint and Tony definitely had the most trouble with pronouns, or inadvertently saying something offensive. 

But they tried, which was far more than Bucky could have hoped for. When Clint just couldn’t seem to drop the masculine pronouns, he came to breakfast with a squirt bottle labeled “pronoun corrector”. Tony was still learning that being a girl didn’t mean he had to go easy on the trained HYDRA assassin or treat her like glass. And Steve was still figuring out that he didn't need to do anything different at all, other that call her "she". They all had slip ups, but they were all learning, and it made her tear up with happiness.

She’d found a home, and a family, and a happiness she hadn’t thought possible. All these things and more. 

Her name is Bucky Barnes. And she is stronger than ever before.

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT!!  
> I am NOT a transgender person. As such, while I tried my best to depict Bucky’s experiences accurately and respectfully (especially considering the era he was raised in plus all the superhero shit)(and also considering that every transgender person’s experience is unique), it is entirely possible that I made errors (especially with pronouns, which I had a lot of trouble deciding how to depict). If you notice something wrong, and _especially_ if you notice something offensive or hurtful, please please please let me know immediately, and I will either correct the mistake or remove the story. I’m serious, don’t hesitate to call me out. The last thing I want to do is spread anything harmful.  <3 
> 
> Also as a side note, I’ve been working on this story for a while, but in light of the events surrounding Leelah Alcorn, I finished as fast as I could, in honor of her. If you or anyone needs support, please feel free to message me, or refer to one of these resources, and know you are loved. <3 <3 <3
> 
> US (Trans Lifeline): (877) 565-8860  
> Canada (Trans Lifeline): (877) 330-6366  
> The Trevor Lifeline (for all LGBTQIA+ people): 1-866-488-7386  
> UK (The Samaritans - they are LGBTQIA+ friendly): 08457 90 90 90  
> Australia (The National Lifeline – they are LGBTQIA+ friendly): 13 11 14
> 
>  
> 
> As far as story related notes, just a few things: I personally ship Steve/Bucky like no ones business, but I felt like having that romantic aspect between them wouldn’t fit with the story I was trying to tell, which was why I chose to have Bucky romantically interested in one of the Howling Commandos.
> 
> Also, I made Natasha the first to catch on partially because she’s a girl, and I felt that Bucky developing his first real female friendship was important, but also because I felt it made the most sense for the superspy whose specialty is information gathering to be the first to figure out what was going on.
> 
> That’s all the notes I can think of at the moment. Please let me know any and all thoughts and feeling! Much love to all! <3


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